


Christmas on the Road

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Christmas, Coulson's Robot Hand, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Finger Sucking, First Time, Future Fic, Mission Related, Older Man/Younger Woman, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:39:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5419172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson's forced to share a bed with Daisy - with the inevitable result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas on the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BrilliantlyHorrid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrilliantlyHorrid/gifts), [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts), [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [notcaycepollard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcaycepollard/gifts).



> Another Skoulson Fluff-ficathon prompt filled. I am on a roll. (It's a cinnamon one, obviously.)  
> Dedicated to the 'core' Skoulson fic writers I know on Tumblr because the rest of this fandom's being shitty as fuck right now.

Daisy wakes abruptly, and it takes her a moment to realise why she's awoken – the car's stopped. She straightens up in her seat, wincing at all the little jabs of discomfort.

"Where are we?" she asks Coulson, then pulls a face at her pasty mouth.

"Rochester," he tells her, and she realises he's been driving for _hours_.

"Why didn't you wake me to take a turn driving, Phil?" she asks, a bit cross with him.

"You needed the sleep," he says gently, his expression soft. 

And while that's probably true, she's still a little annoyed – they're partners after all.

"Don't worry," he says, reading her mind as he often seems to. "You can do an excessive amount of driving once we get back on the road."

She nods, then asks, "So we're stopping here tonight?"

"And tomorrow."

She frowns at him, confused for a moment, then looks at the dashboard clock. "Oh yeah, Christmas day tomorrow, well, in like six and a half minutes. Okay."

He gives her one of his smirky grins, clearly amused that she'd forgotten, so she shoves at his shoulder, which just makes him laugh. "Let's go see if they've got any rooms left," he suggests and she nods.

"Yeah, I don't fancy the stable tonight." 

He shoots her an amused look, then they climb out, and while Coulson gets their bags out of the trunk, Daisy takes a moment to stretch after being curled up in the passenger seat for so long. Once she feels a bit looser she takes her bag from him, and they head inside to speak to the desk clerk.

When they do they discover that owing to the late hour and the time of the year, there's only one room left – with just one Queen bed in it. Coulson pulls her aside, out of the clerk's hearing, to confer with her in a muted tone.

"I can sleep in the car," he suggests.

"Don't be ridiculous, Phil. It's freezing out there. What d'you think the Director'd say if we get back and you're suffering from hypothermia? We can share, it's fine."

He stares at her a bit longer, clearly checking that she's sincere, then he brushes his hand lightly over her forearm before turning back to the desk clerk to get them checked in.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

The room is spacious, if not very warm, and Coulson immediately goes over to fiddle with the thermostat on the wall.

"I can sleep in the chair," he offers.

"Phil," she says, "you're going to share the bed with me. You've been driving for hours, you should be comfortable while you sleep."

He swallows, then nods, and she finds herself watching him from the corner of her eye as she takes her sleepwear (sweatpants, a tank, and a sweater) from her bag and puts it on the bed. Then she asks, "Which side do you want to sleep?"

He shakes his head. "I don't mind." She looks over at him, and he seems to be telling the truth, so she nods. 

"I'll take the side by the window, then."

"Okay. Do you want to shower first?"

"No, you go ahead." 

He pulls his toiletries bag out of his duffel and disappears into the bathroom. Daisy sits on the end of the bed and pulls off her boots, tossing them onto the floor before she removes her socks too. She flexes her feet, looking down at her toenail polish, then she stands and takes off her leather jacket as well. 

When Coulson comes out of the bathroom after his shower, it's to find Daisy sprawled across the bed, minus her leather jacket, boots, and socks, fast asleep. He smiles at the sight, then quickly swaps the fluffy robe he found on the back of the bathroom door for his sleepwear – an old-SHIELD issue t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. He curls his robot hand around her ankle, and she opens her eyes, peering up at him groggily.

"What?" she asks.

"You're taking up the entire bed," he points out, "and I doubt you'll find it comfortable to sleep in your jeans after a while."

She makes an indeterminate noise, then rolls across the bed before sitting up. He watches with a mixture of amusement and curiosity as she starts to get undressed.

"Uh, Daisy, you haven't forgotten I'm right here, have you?" he asks once she's removed her button-down, revealing her trademark black tank underneath.

She scoffs. "Phil, I can feel your vibrations right behind me."

"But you're getting undressed," he says, feeling a bit confused. 

She half turns to look over her shoulder at him. "You could close your eyes, if you're that bothered."

He shakes his head, and she turns away, then pulls off her tank top, and he feels his breath hitch at the sight of the smooth, bare expanse of her back; the realisation that she hasn't been wearing a bra today makes his mouth go dry and his cock stiffen. He should look away, he thinks, or lie down with his back to her, but he somehow can't tear his eyes from her. She stands up, still with her back to him, and unfastens her jeans, then slides them off her hips, and he swallows nervously at the sight of her skimpy lilac panties. When she hooks her fingers into the waistband of them, though, he slams his eyes closed, biting back a moan of longing.

He keeps his eyes closed through the subsequent rustling, then feels the bed dip, and a moment later Daisy speaks, "You can open your eyes now, Phil, there's nothing here to frighten the horses."

He opens his eyes and looks around to see she's lying on her side, facing him, and looking incredibly amused. He takes a deep breath, then gets up to switch out the light, before climbing carefully into the bed beside her.

"It's okay, Phil, I don't bite." 

Her tone is light and teasing, and he can't quite fight back a moan at the thought of Daisy biting him, at the mental image of her mouth on his body, and it makes him rock hard all over again.

He doesn't realise he's closed his eyes until he hears Daisy say his name, her breath tickling his ear.

"Phil," she says again, and he snaps his eyes open: there's dim light filtering in through the blinds from the parking lot outside, and he can see she's looking apologetic. "I'm – " 

"Don't," he says, before she can get the words out. He swallows, then reaches up to cup her cheek. "Please don't apologise for teasing me, Daisy. I like it."

"You sure, Phil? Cause you were looking uncomfortable just now."

He nods, and she brings her hand up, pressing her palm to the back of his hand, then she carefully slides his hand across her face and presses a light kiss to his palm.

"Daisy." He can't help groaning at the gesture. She curls her fingers around his wrist, then draws his hand forward and laves the tip of his index with her tongue, and he can't seem to breathe. "Fuck, Daisy."

His words seem to be a signal of some sort because she sucks his finger into her mouth, and he gets the idea immediately, and begins to fingerfuck her mouth, even as his cock grows harder and thicker. She shifts, and a moment later, she's straddling his leg, and even through the fabric of their sweatpants, he can feel the heat and moisture at her core. He reaches down with his free hand and begins stroking her sex through her sweatpants, and she groans around his finger before pulling her mouth off him.

"Phil," she gasps. "Inside me. Now." 

Between them they get first her sweatpants, then his, down far enough to expose themselves, and then Daisy's sinking down onto his cock, and he groans as he feels her heat surrounding him.

"Oh fuck," he moans, and she grunts, a rather unladylike noise that he finds desperately sexy.

"Fuck, Phil," she says, and squeezes around him.

"If you do that too often I am not gonna last," he warns her.

She smirks at him, then asks, "You okay with me on top?"

"God yes." That elicits another smirk, then she slowly lifts herself up until only the tip of his cock's still inside, then she slides back down again. She rides him slowly at first, then begins to pick up speed, and he clasps her hips and begins to thrust upwards.

"Yeah, Phil." 

He's mesmerised by her, the lithe movements of her body above him, and how absolutely gorgeous she is – even the scars on her stomach don't detract from her beauty, they're just a reminder of what a fighter she's always been.

She comes first, to his relief, and he follows quickly afterwards. When she slumps down on top of him, he wraps his hands around her, his left arm across her lower back, and his right over her shoulder blades. 

"Okay?" he asks.

"Yeah." She nuzzles the side of his neck, then scrapes her teeth over the spot behind his ear.

"Daisy." Her name is a breathy moan, and she chuckles, her breath tickling his skin and making it tingle. "Fuck."

"Mmm." She kisses him on the mouth, and when his lips part, she slips her tongue inside, then strokes it against the roof of his mouth, making him moan some more.

When she finally pulls away to let them both catch their breath, he asks, "How did you know I wanted this?"

"C'mon Phil, I've seen the way you look at me. And you were obviously worried about sharing a bed with me. Plus, your vibrations, when I was getting undressed were spiking. Also, your really obvious erection."

He can feel himself blushing, and she chuckles at him, her whole body vibrating over his, and he groans quietly. "Fuck, Daisy. Are you trying to kill me?"

"I'm really not," she says. Then she lifts herself off him and flops onto her back beside him. 

He wriggles until he's pulled his sweatpants back up, and after a moment she does the same.

"Are you gonna take this off?" she asks, running her index over his prosthetic hand.

"Do you mind if I do?"

"Of course not, Phil. You should do whatever makes you feel comfortable."

She watches as he unscrews the prosthetic, then climbs out of bed to put it away in its charging case. Once he's back in bed, she immediately moves closer to him. "Spoon?" she asks.

"Yeah," he agrees, surprised and touched by the offer. "Can I – " He stops, suddenly shy of asking.

"Can you what, Phil?" She tilts her head, giving him a considering look. "You want to be the little spoon?"

He nods, and she smiles softly. "Turn over, then." He shifts to lie on his side, and she fits her body behind his, as if she's always slept at his back. She slides her arms around his torso and wraps them over his, and he feels himself relaxing back against her body.

"Okay?"

"Yeah."

"Goodnight Phil."

"Goodnight Daisy." He feels her press a kiss to the nape of his neck, and he thinks how lucky he is to have found her. He falls asleep feeling quietly content.

AC-S-AC-S-AC

When she wakes the next morning, Daisy's surprised to find she's still wrapped around Coulson, and is even more surprised when she realises that last night wasn't just one of her usual dreams – they actually had sex, after years of UST. She tightens her arms around him, then nuzzles the back of his neck, and after a few minutes he mumbles something indistinct.

"You okay, Phil?" she asks.

"Mmm. Why'd you wake me?"

"I didn't," she protests.

"Did. You were nuzzling me."

She laughs softly, and he growls, then starts to roll onto his back, so she loosens her arms to allow him to move. He presses his body against hers as he leans in to kiss her, and she moans at the discovery he's rock hard. "Merry Christmas, Phil."

"Merry Christmas, Daisy." He kisses her some more. "I need to see you naked," he tells her, and she shivers in anticipation at the idea.

"Yeah." She sits up and pulls off her sweater, then her tank; she smirks when she catches sight of his expression, and the way he's cupping his cock through his pants. "You too, Phil," she says firmly.

"I – " He pauses, his expression going from lustful to pained. 

"Phil," she says, moving into his personal space and wrapping her arms around his neck. "It's okay. If you'd rather keep the t-shirt on, I won't mind."

He shakes his head. "No, I want you to see me."

"Okay." She kisses him sweetly and swiftly, then reaches down to grab the hem of his shirt, and he lifts his arms so she can tug it up and off him. She tosses it aside, then puts her hands behind his neck, leaning back to look at his scar.

"It's not ugly," she says softly. "I mean, it's not gorgeous, like you, but it's not ugly, because it's proof that you survived." She brings her right hand around and traces her fingertip lightly down the line of puckered flesh, then looks up at his face. He looks a bit awed, but also like he might cry, and his vibrations have gone 'soft'. "You okay, Phil?" 

He swallows, nods, then leans in and kisses her, his right arm circling her body. "Thank you, Daisy."

"For what?" she wonders. 

"For not being horrified by it."

She shrugs. "It's a part of you, like your arm." She curls her fingers lightly over his stump, and he shudders. She looks up, worried she's gone too far, but he smiles.

"It's okay," he says. "I'm just not used to anyone else touching it. I don't even touch it that much."

She nods, understanding, then asks, "Is it hurting?"

He half shrugs. "It hurts often."

"Can I – " she starts, then stops, and says, "You trust me, right?"

He nods, his expression curious. "Always."

"I might be able to make it a bit less painful, but it means using my powers. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," he says, breathlessly eager.

She sits to his left side, crosslegged, and curls her right hand loosely around his stump, then she closes her eyes to better concentrate on isolating the vibrations of his left arm from the rest of him – it's easier than she initially anticipated, and after a moment she realises it's because his vibrations feel jagged on this side. It's not something she's noticed before because this is the first time she's been around him when he's not had the prosthetic fitted, and that changes his vibrations in an entirely different way, the robot hand masking his arm's vibrations.

"Tell me if it hurts, or feels too weird or uncomfortable, okay?" she asks softly.

"Okay." 

She rests her free hand on his thigh, to anchor them both, then focuses carefully, 'smoothing' out his vibrations around his stump so that they no longer feel jagged. She can feel his entire body beginning to relax, his muscles loosening, and his breathing slowing and deepening, and she smiles to herself. She's only done this kind of therapeutic work on someone's vibrations a couple of times before – once when Joey broke his ankle on a mission, and once when May got stabbed on a different mission. It was different each time, because each person's vibrations are unique to them, but it had been a satisfying experience on both occasions, knowing that she was using her powers, which could tear continents in half, to help a team mate heal.

By the time she's finished, Coulson's practically asleep, and she leans in to kiss his shoulder lightly, then eases him back down onto the bed. "Go back to sleep, Phil," she says.

"Daisy," he says, and she can hear the way he's trying to fight the sleepiness.

"It's okay, Phil," she promises. "It's still only early. We aren't going anywhere today, so there's no reason you can't grab a few more hours."

"Mmm." His eyes close, and she leans over and presses her lips very softly to his brow, then she grabs the comforter and pulls it back up the bed, before snuggling up against him, mindful of his stump. 

She closes her own eyes. She won't object to a couple more hours sleep for herself, she decides, and when Phil wakes, she'll make love to him as tenderly as she knows how.


End file.
